


Incandescent Blonde

by Irreplaceable



Series: The Letter [2]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Begins Dark, Bromance, Chess, Eventual Smut, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Movie Night, Searching For Bobby Fischer, Set between s3:19 and s4:01, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7836661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irreplaceable/pseuds/Irreplaceable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red begins to have complicated feelings about a reoccurring dream lover when an unexpected letter is delivered.<br/>AKA: The One With The Blonde Lizzy</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Terry1961](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terry1961/gifts), [bigbird12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigbird12/gifts).



> Continuation of Message In a Bottle. Inspired by Terry1961, Nicole, and bigbird12.
> 
> I've tweaked the first chapter a bit. The first chapters are set up to explain Red's current mindset when he receives the letter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own The Blacklist or its characters and make no profit from this.

The blonde visits him in his dreams. 

The first time she is clothed in a cream-colored maxi-dress and she looks ready to attend a summer concert in the park. It is not something he has seen her wear before. It isn’t her style. Or perhaps it is; but in the real world she would never have purchased such an impractical dress because when would she ever have the time to wear it? They exchange no words. She is smiling at him but he knows her so well, there is no way to un-see the pain in her eyes. Before he can attempt conversation or physical contact, the blonde disappears into a dark fog and is gone. 

He wakes up screaming her name out, "Elizabeth!" His pillow is soaked. In his delirium he briefly wonders if it is from his tears or sweat. It is so very hot in his bunk here after all, it’s hard to say for sure. He begs the blonde to meet him again in his dreams only moments before he drops back into oblivion. 

She is a cruel mistress. He comes to that conclusion when she delays responding to his heartfelt plea; the blonde does not return to grace his slumber again until a number of lonely weeks have passed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The redhead fills in for the blonde for a few weeks when Red visits Cape May.

The redhead fills in for the blonde for a few weeks. He hasn’t seen the redhead in decades but he doesn't question why she hasn’t aged a day during all that time. A gentleman would never ask a lady such a thing. 

They help each other; at least as much as a ghost and a man who’s overindulged in his favorite opioid can. He finds some of their time together profound and a balm to his open wounds. She is patient, asks all the right questions, and is comfortable with silence when he can’t immediately voice his answers because the words get stuck coming out of his throat. At other moments their time together is just confusing and deep down he wishes that the haunting would end. But at least with her there he’s not alone so he never comes to resent her presence.

As he looks at the redhead’s attractive face repeatedly during those weeks he sees the resemblance to the blonde but can’t imagine for the life of him how anyone could possibly say the one looks “just like” the other. And then he admits to himself for the first time (or maybe it is the hundredth?) that the redhead doesn’t hold a candle to the incandescent blonde. He makes a mental note to himself that he really should tell the blonde that if she ever returns to his dreams.

Eventually, towards the end of their time together at the shore, a small part of his mind that is slowly sobering up interrupts his thoughts, "This isn’t real you know. You’re just a coward trying to deny that Lizzy’s gone by avoiding reality. Because you hate yourself for never having told her... and now you can't stand to look at yourself in the mirror. Why didn't you listen to Dembe?"

Later that night, when he thinks the inner voice will finally let him get some rest, it comes back even louder to torment him some more. "The blonde would be disappointed with this behavior of yours. Maybe that’s why she left after her single visit to you in the den and hasn't come back.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since the last two chapters have been pretty dark, I bring you (what I hope to be) a nice little bit of fluff. Quality bromance time between Red and Dembe, followed by a serving of road-tripping Lizzy and Red discussing favorite movies that evolves into some good clean smut. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Blacklist, Searching For Bobby Fischer, or any of their characters. And for the record, Red would never have played Bobby Fischer because he couldn't stand the man's Antisemitism.

_“They say he lost his nerve and he’ll never play again. They say he lost his mind and roams the streets of Los Angeles hiding out under assumed names. Some people say he’s dead. I think he’s laying low and getting stronger. Waiting for just the right moment to come back and reclaim_ _his crown.” –Josh, Searching For Bobby Fischer (1993)_

_\-------------_

_In the early years of his empire building there was no time to enjoy causal pastimes. For ten years the only TV he watched was The Weather Channel, CNN, and BBC News, and only out of necessity. Even if he’d had a spare couple of hours, movie theaters were simply out of the question due to safety concerns. He had no time to watch anything on a VCR so he never owned one._

_Once his prominence in the criminal world was firmly established, and there was room for a little leisure time, Dembe insisted on instituting a movie night every other Friday and gifted Red with a top-of-the-line portable DVD player. When they were between commissions (a rarity) movie night was weekly. They switched off who picked the movie each time. If it was a comedy there was always a good chance the boys would have a nice buzz going by the time the credits rolled._

_One Friday Dembe surprised him with a drama about a child chess prodigy. It was an odd pick considering Dembe’s tastes ran more towards rom-coms and animation (a secret Reddington swore he would take to his grave).  Red had never heard of the movie before but by the end of the film it was his new favorite. The story of the young boy so closely paralleled his own childhood that it made him miss his mother and father terribly. It became the first movie Red ever wanted to watch more than once. Its story of the young chess prodigy also reinvigorated his love for the game and inspired Dembe to learn it; he quickly became an enthusiastic pupil. A new tradition was born out of that movie, chess games on alternating Monday nights. For Dembe’s next birthday Red made him a portable chess set hand-carved out of reclaimed teak and mahogany woods originally sourced from Sierra Leone.  Eventually over the years the student became as strong a player as his teacher._

_\-------------_

Red comes across an abandoned chess set as he goes through Dom’s shed. He sees the white queen on top of the jumble of pieces but doesn’t, _won’t_ , pick up the piece with his dust-covered hands. He palms the black knight instead.

Over a lifetime he’s accumulated thousands of memories of playing chess with worthy adversaries, including many of the world’s greatest male and female Grandmasters: Nona Gaprindashvili, Garry Kasparov, Boris Spassky. But the memory that jumps to mind as he holds the cheap plastic knight is not of a particular game or player. It feels like a punch to his gut when it comes rushing back all at once.

He is driving them down a backroad in northern Michigan in their current SUV. It’s an older model so it doesn’t have satellite radio. When she can’t find a station on FM or AM that will stay in tune for more than a minute at a time, she shuts it off. Before he can decide on a new border-line smutty escapade to regale her with (he _never_ tires of the flustered blush his stories bring to her cheeks), she asks, “So tell me Red, what are some of your favorite movies? I remember walking in on you and Dembe laughing your heads off at some old movie you both found hysterically funny. Was that a one-off or do you get the chance to see a few movies occasionally?”

His heart skips a beat at her question. In the beginning she never would have asked him a personal question. She went out of her way in the early days to discourage any sort of familiarity between the two of them.  And she’s a profiler, so he’s especially flattered she wants to know. Personal preferences and tastes in the arts can tell so much about a person.

“I will admit to enjoying cinema when I have the time. Hmm Lizzy, that’s a very good question,” a moment or two of silence then he continues, “I’m not sure I can come up with a list for you off the top of my head but I could share with you my very favorite. However, first you have to promise to tell me yours in exchange.” He can feel her eyes on him so he winks his right eye at her and they exchange silly grins as they both recall the many times they’ve done a verbal tango trying to get information out of each other.

“Deal. You go first Red. This ought to be good. Let me take a guess, _Silence Of The Lambs?_ ” Lizzy giggles.

“Ohhhh, you’re going to pay for that you little she-devil. _Later,_ ” he quietly growls. For a split-second he takes his eyes off the road and forgets to stop himself before giving her a heated look. He then clears his throat, nervous that she’ll read too much into his choice or apply some Freudian analysis to it and forever ruin the movie for him. “No, my favorite movie is _Searching For Bobby Fischer._ It’s about a little boy who loves the game of chess _._ You’ve probably never heard of it since you were pretty young when it came out.”

Once again she surprises him, “Really?! Yes I’ve heard of it. In fact, it’s one of my favorite movies. I wrote a paper about chess psychology in grad school. I got stuck mid-way through writing the damn thing and needed a break. The movie had come up in my periodicals research so I rented it hoping it would help get rid of my writers block. It worked, I got an A on the paper.”

 _Well that just blew up in my face spectacularly_ , _she IS going to analyze me, crap_. Quickly he replies, “In that case maybe someday I’ll have to host a movie night for us. We could make it a double feature along with your favorite movie. I’m dying to know Lizzy, what will we be seeing?” He hopes this will redirect her attention away from him.

After a minute of silence he glances over at her face. She is deep in thought and for life of him he can’t figure out why. Did he take things too far by suggesting plans for the future? He specifically avoided the word date in order not to spook her. “Earth to Lizzy, where is that pretty mind of yours off to now?”

She keeps her eyes on the road ahead. “How old were you when you became a chess Grandmaster?”

“I was 16. But how did you know?” That fact about him is not widely known.  Years ago he went to great lengths and expense to have it purged from his military records (along with a few other key details), so he knows it wouldn’t be in his FBI dossier.

“It just makes a lot of sense…explains a lot.  That means you played at the international level, in the early 70’s, during the Cold War. The USSR had the majority of the best players then, right? I suppose you learned Russian so you could converse with your opponents. You could then try to get inside their heads for a competitive advantage.”  Liz is still looking out the windshield, trying to put the last pieces of her revised profile together in her head.

“Yes that’s all true. I don’t mind you asking me about this but where are you going with this?” He is so confused by this conversation right now.

Liz remains in profile to him, “You entered the naval academy with the dream of becoming a ship’s captain. But when you excelled in your military strategy courses you began to gain the attention of the top brass. At one point you were being groomed for Admiral, but then you ended up in counterintelligence.”

He starts to respond, “Yes,” but is cut off before he finishes another word.

“Red, turn right onto that dirt road ahead.” She turns her face towards him finally. He glances over at her, sees the tears pooling in her eyes.

He follows her instruction, drives down another quarter of a mile and slows down near an old barn that has clearly been abandoned. As a precaution he drives the SUV behind the barn so they are hidden from the road. Liz exits the vehicle and he follows her.

“The Navy found out about your grandmaster status, and that you are fluent in Russian, didn’t they? You already had Soviet and other international acquaintances from your time on the tournament circuit. All qualities that would be very useful for a deep-cover operative to have in his arsenal in the fight against the Cold War. It made you the ideal recruiting candidate to become a spy. But you didn’t volunteer for counter intelligence…they gave you no choice in the matter…” she can’t speak any further, fighting to hold back sobs. Tears roll down her face as her locks eyes lock onto his, “They stole your dream from you.”

He is fighting back his own tears now. In a few steps he is standing directly in front of her. She has the biggest heart of anyone he’s ever known and it’s what he admires most about her. “You and your profiling, there’s not anything I can hide from you is there sweetheart?” He can’t stop himself from gathering her within his arms, the need to comfort her right now is overwhelming.

_After the night in the cargo container he made her promise him that they would not be intimate again while they are on the run. It would put them into too much jeopardy, he explained, they would both be distracted from their mission to clear her name. She reluctantly agreed._

The embrace is the first time they’ve had physical contact in weeks. And of course the discussion about his dream of being a ship’s captain brings up the memories of the night spent in their cozy little container. His mouth finds hers and there is nothing gentle about the kiss. In response her teeth latch onto his lower lip as her tongue swipes across it. Neither can hold the other tight enough. He groans and then is forcefully breaching her mouth with his tongue. A new version of their verbal tango begins.

After a few minutes she is pulling back and whispering against his lips, “Raymond, I need you. Now.” It’s kryptonite to him.

He can’t stop, he needs to be deep inside her, knows it is the only thing that will bring relief to his painful hard-on that’s now throbbing against the material of his pants. In an instant his favorite windbreaker is discarded and laying on the hard ground as a makeshift blanket. He gently pushes her to sit down on it. Lizzy takes her pants off while he fumbles with his belt and zipper. Once his erection is free she takes him into her mouth, all the way down to the base, to get him ready to slide easily into her body. A wild growl escapes his lips as he runs his hands into her hair, then jerks her head away from groin. She looks up into his eyes and there’s a little smirk on her lips, because she knows that she’s making him lose all control and she loves it.

He pushes her onto her back as he follows her down to the ground. There is no time to remove her panties, he just pushes them to one side. She is then groaning as his tongue finds her clit and teases it mercilessly with slow feather-soft strokes. His right index finger finds its way inside her and he’s satisfied that she is ready because she is absolutely flooded with wetness. He decides to torment her a little longer, she kind of deserves it after that joke at his expense about the movie, but her hips won’t stay still and then he hears her cry, “I need you inside me, NOW, pleasssee.”

He is powerless at the words, couldn’t say no even if he wanted to. But he doesn’t want to deny her anything. It thrills him to bring her pleasure. He enters her fully in one quick stroke. She is completely uninhibited with him and her need to come is so urgent that she reaches down and starts circling a finger around her clit while they find a frantic mutual pace. He always knew if they had sex it would be wild but nothing prepared him for _this_. She is so very wet and fits around him perfectly. He feels like a teenager again because he knows this is going to be all over way too quickly. He looks into her eyes as he says, “You are _killing_ me Beautiful. I need you to come for me _Lizzy_.”

It’s his voice saying her name like _that_ that triggers her orgasm. Her incoherent screaming is so loud he is afraid for a second that it will be heard along the main road and attract attention.  But then the thought is instantly gone as he feels her walls contracting around him again and again… and he’s lost in his own orgasm. He thinks he pulls out in time, and comes all over the bottom of his jacket peeking out from underneath her thighs.

_\-------------_

He finds some paper towels in the shed and wipes the dust off his hands, then goes back to the chess pieces. After confirming the set is incomplete (the black king is missing), he takes a clean paper towel and carefully wraps the white queen and black knight into a secure bundle before slipping them into his pants pocket.

That night the blonde returns to his dreams. She wears the cream-colored dress again. They are sitting side-by-side on a park bench holding hands. Across the paved path from them Dembe sits playing chess against a little blonde girl. Red is so happy that the blonde’s come back to visit him and sits there contentedly stroking his thumb against the scar on her palm for what feels like hours. Just before the dream ends at dawn, she turns her head and whispers in his ear, _“Look deep Raymond. It’s there. Don’t move until you see it.”_ He wakes up to find his pillow soaked and knows with certainty this time it is from his tears. “Lizzy, I can’t see it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dialog exchange at the very end is taken from Searching For Bobby Fischer.


End file.
